


A Warrior's Lesson

by hightechzombie



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4319880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hightechzombie/pseuds/hightechzombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tailgate can't sleep at night. Cyclonus hates him for it, and hates ever more the fact that he can't sleep either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warrior's Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Set between Issue 13 and 16.

There are two things that a warrior very soon learns about recharge: How to snap out of it on any sign of danger and how to recharge soundly despite the racket two steps away from your berth. The trick was on letting your sub-systems filter the noise and only listen for the sounds that don’t fit - unfamiliar footsteps and unusual metal clangs, as well as banal gunfire.

Yet somehow Cyclonus still kept waking up. While Tailgate fretful thrashing could qualify under widest sense of “racket”, there was nothing dangerous about the situation nor the bot’s nature. Only danger that Tailgate had ever offered to anyone was a danger to _himself_. Either way, still no good reason to wake up.

Except it was. Cyclonus snapped awake every time Tailgate shifted on his berth, every time the bot sighed or muttered something. It appears Tailgate never learned the warrior’s lessons about recharge. Not unexpected, considering the bot’s history. The real question was why Cyclonus forgot his own routine in the presence of such incompetence.

Cyclonus must have moved or betrayed otherwise his wakefulness, for Tailgate chose to speak up.

“Cyclonus..?”

No answer. May the small bot just go to sleep.

“You can’t recharge either..?”

“Whose fault may that be?” almost said Cyclonus sarcastically, but successfully fought down the unworthy urge. Whatever it might be prevent him from a peaceful recharge, it was not solely Tailgate’s fault.

“I am awake,” confirmed Cyclonus. He saw Tailgate face towards him, optics glowing dimly in the dark.

“Do you ever think about destiny?”

“Destiny? Do you often fret during recharge time about destiny?” Cyclonus did not hide his mock amusement.

“Come on… what else should I do at such time? Invent terminal illnesses to explain my inability to recharge? Therefore yes, I think about destiny. Do you ever think about it?“

“No.”

“Well, that’s… I suppose that’s an answer.”

Silence followed, but Cyclonus knew it wouldn’t last.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about my own… you know, destiny. I think I left it behind.”

“How so?” said Cyclonus with piqued curiosity.

“When I dropped inside that cave, I was sure I was a goner… and if I was gonna survive, then certainly not like this. It’s like somebody popped me into a new world… a new life. Whatever destiny I had - waste disposal, diving through other people’s trash, maybe moving up in the world and becoming the head of waste department? Such a boring, awful life - boring destiny! - and now it’s all gone.”

“It’s such a weird thought, but… did I take somebody else’s place here? Did some poor sod get stuck with my slag job while I got a chance at heroics? Did I swap destinies with someone and didn’t notice? Does it even work like that?”

“There is either one destiny engrained in your spark… or there isn’t at all,” said Cyclonus. “Pick one and discard the other thought. We cannot replace our destiny, as much as person can’t replace his spark with a different one.”

Tailgate huffed thoughtfully, seemingly processing the idea.

“You must be right. But it does not make things easier for me. I wish I could do as you do - just not worry about being somebody else. Not doubts… it must be nice?”

“Lack of doubts is not the same as certainty. And while I wish I could say I am certain… I am not. That moment had passed and left me empty.”

“What had happened?” tentatively asked Tailgate.

“I made a choice. Primus guided my hand and the future had seemed set in stone. But what came after was…” Cyclonus remembered the dirty, dark streets of the new Cybertron. The desecrated corpse of once beautiful city. To stay there was to join the scavengers and become one with the poison that was destroying Cybertron… a fate that Cyclonus considered worse than death.

“I did not join Lost Light because I believed in the quest,” cut off Cyclonus. The bitterness in his voice was impossible to miss. “It was merely one of many irrelevant choices in a disappointing world.”

In the transparent dark, Cyclonus realized that he said too much.

“If destiny exists, then every step matters. As you said, take the whole deal or walk out. So, it’s not just the seemingly life-shattering decisions, but every small choice that matters too,” Tailgate shrugged at the end. “Just gotta live, I suppose.”

After a few beats, Tailgate coughed quietly and added.

“Anyway, destiny talk is making me sleepy. Charge well.”

Tailgate turned on his back, facing away from Cyclonus. It seemed the conversation was over.

It was true, that Cyclonus never thought about destiny in earnest. The way it seemed to him, people either thought of destiny as promise of glory, that the universe was going one day to fulfill. Which was wrong. Or they considered destiny the source of all the tragedies in their lives and used it as an excuse to falter and dwell on their misery. Which was an even more ridiculous idea.

Cyclonus felt, that he had come very close to joining the second category - a thought that was as infuriating as it was humbling. None are free from weaknesses of mind and body. Only the hard and trying journey can exercise these flaws.

What was Tailgate’s flaw? His words made Cyclonus angry for a reason he did not immediately understand. It was obvious, that Tailgate’s guilt about the lies about his real identity had prompted this exchange, and yet…

Did Tailgate really believe he cheated the universe through his survival? Did Tailgate really think that trading life as a menial worker for a chance to be blown up in combat was such an outrageously good deal, that he did not even deserve it?

Now there was a third category for idiots that talked about destiny. Cyclonus felt stupider for having met a representative of this class… and even worse, a small part of him felt humbled. It was a disgusting feeling.

Made him smile, for some reason.


End file.
